Shawn didn’t encounter any of his father’s messengers for two days after the incident in the library, and he began to relax, thinking that his show of resistance would make them not want to try again.
But his spirits were low, as he reluctantly came to the conclusion that all the books about missionary work were written for persons who were working through a church and were aiming their ministry at some part of the general public. His task, as an individual, was to witness to a single, specific person, and he still had no idea how to proceed.
He rose early the next morning, walked to the mission, and helped to cook and serve breakfast. There were a large number of people who had spent the night, and it was nearly nine o’clock by the time they were all fed. But the work had helped Shawn to clear his mind, and he was ready for the day. He wanted to get home and look something up in his Bible.
But when he reached the front counter, he froze. Outside the open front door, standing on the sidewalk talking, he could see three men. One was Reverend Walker, one was the large man from the library, and the third was his father. He veered into the day room, and made his way back to the kitchen.
“Brother Shawn, you look like you seen a ghost!” Charlie the cook said.
“I did. Two of them. Brother Charlie, in about five seconds, I’m going out that back door. You can shut off the power to the alarm system if you want to, or you can let it ring. Either way, I’m going out.”
“Now
hold on, Brother Shawn. That don’t do no good. It got batteries.
But what I can do is hold in this here reset button while you slips out the door, nice and quiet like. Anything you want me to tell the ghosts, if they get this far?”
“Tell them... tell them ‘Christ be with you.’”
“Okay, I say that for you. You ready?”
“Yes. Take care, Charlie.”
Shawn slipped out the back door, shut it firmly, and wound his way through alleys and back streets until he came to the railroad yard. He wasn’t sure why he had gone in that direction... perhaps just because it was the last place in town his father would ever go. The yard was busy at that hour, so he headed for the little cafe that catered to the yard workers and other nearby industries. He ordered pie a la mode and tried to collect his thoughts.
After three pieces of pie and two glasses of milk, he was beginning to wonder if his current situation was going to work. He was no longer comfortable in the library, and now he dared not return to the mission. After paying his bill and tipping the waitress, he warily made his way home. He needed to read his Bible, not to find ideas for witnessing this time, but to find words of comfort for himself.
As soon as he stepped into his bedroom, he grabbed his Bible, but another book also caught his eye. He took the little volume his grandmother had given him, went out to the kitchen table, and opened it.
Progress is the final harvest of persecution.
The words seemed to have been planted there on the page just for him.
But as he sat there, he realized he wasn’t sure he understood them. Progress for whom?
He rolled this unexpectedly thought-provoking statement around in his mind while he made himself a snack. It said progress, not happiness, he had to remind himself. He sat down and opened the little book again.
Mortals only learn wisdom by experiencing tribulation.
He was beginning to understand. And he was also beginning to think that he had much more to learn about life before he could be a good witness for Christ... to anyone.
When five o’clock rolled around, Shawn was still at the kitchen table, reading and thinking. Todd closed the shop and bounded upstairs, announcing that he was going out on a date with a girl he had known in high school. He was showered, dressed, and out the door in fifteen minutes flat.
Shawn didn’t want to go very far that evening, but he wanted to get out of the apartment. It occurred to him that he hadn’t tried any of the local eating places yet. So at about six o’clock, he stuck a twenty dollar bill into his pocket and went over to Barb’s Soul Food. He was in the mood for something spicy.
It was a tiny restaurant. The black lady who ran the place single-handedly told him to sit anywhere, and a little table near the door to the kitchen looked like the right one. The menu was just as tiny. Shawn wasn’t a great fan of pig’s feet, so that left barbecued ribs or Cajun fried chicken. He had just had ribs at the mission a few days before, so the chicken won.
The music was mostly blues, and it was somehow strangely relaxing to Shawn. But he was keeping one eye on the front door of the little restaurant, almost without thinking about it. When he did think about it, it bothered him. It was his home town, he lived there, and he shouldn’t have to be watching over his shoulder. His fried chicken, lima beans, and turnip greens arrived, with a huge piece of corn bread on a side plate.
Shawn was only part way through his chicken when the large man appeared at the front window, looked in, and then yelled to someone down the block. Shawn bolted for the kitchen, handed his twenty dollar bill to the black lady, and said, “I gotta go! Where’s the back door?”
“Uh, over there,” she pointed. “Want me to slow ‘em down?”
“Please!” Shawn said as he flew across the kitchen, pulled the door open, and dashed into the alley.
Shawn looked both ways, and saw that the cross streets were each about the same distance from where he was standing. But a hunch told him not to go either way. He looked around. On the other side of the alley and just a few yards down was the back entrance to a tavern. He had never been in one before. This seemed like a good first time. He quickly crossed the alley and slipped in.
The inside of the tavern was dark and smoky. People were laughing and
talking, and loud music was playing. Shawn worked his way through from the back near the restrooms to the front.
“What’cha drinkin’, kid?” the bartender asked.
“Um, I was just looking for the soul food place...”
“Next street south. Tell Barb Hi.”
“Thanks, I will,” Shawn said.
He stepped out the front door of the tavern, wondering how much longer he could have breathed the air, but also surprised that nothing terrible had happened inside, as he had always been led to expect. As he began to jog a round-about way back to his room, he made two firm decisions in his mind.
First of all, he was never again just going to take someone else’s word for what something was all about, like a tavern or a railroad yard, especially when it came to questions of good and evil. He was going to at least take a peek for himself, and probably much more than a peek. And second, he was no longer going to try to live in the same city with his father, where he had to constantly be running and hiding from hired goons.
When he finally, after circling around a number of blocks, came to his alley, he walked right past the stair to his apartment the first time, and then hid behind a dumpster to watch and listen.
No one coming.
He walked past again, hid in a shadow.
Nothing.
He dashed up the stairs and locked the door behind him.
Todd was already home, and to Shawn’s amazement, was sitting at the kitchen table reading Shawn’s Bible. “I hope you don’t mind... I don’t have one myself...”
“No problem,” Shawn said. “Go right ahead. How was the date?”
“Good. She had to run off to a class right after we ate, but we’re going out again Saturday with no time limit. I think it might be serious.”
“Great!” Shawn said.
“I guess I should tell you why I was reading your Bible,” Todd said.
“Only if you want to...” Shawn assured him.
“I want to, if you’re not in a hurry...?”
“Nope,” Shawn said, joining Todd at the table.
“I’ve just sort of been messing around for a whole year now. Nothing in my life matters to anyone. I’ve got this dopey little job, but who cares?”
“I guess people who buy occult supplies care.”
“No. I’m just part of the cash register. I want to do things that matter to people in a deeper way, like you are doing. When you go to the mission and help with the church thing and the cooking and stuff, that really touches people. I want my life to be like that.”
Shawn was having a little trouble believing what he was hearing. Could it be that he had been successfully witnessing for Christ all along, and just hadn’t been aware of it?
“That’s why I was reading your Bible,” Todd went on. “I figured it was time I learned about doing important things, like you do.”
Shawn suppressed the temptation to laugh out loud... at himself. He had been searching for advice on what to say to Todd for more than a week, and in reality words were not what Todd needed at all.
“That’s really great, Todd. As soon as I met you, I knew that you were very close to the Kingdom of God.”
“Really? You could tell?”
“Yeah. You were really nice, and you welcomed me into your apartment, and you were reading lots of books that showed you were searching for truth.”
“Wow. Hey, maybe I could go down to the mission with you some time and help out? I mean, just with little things like cleaning up. I wouldn’t know what to do in the church service.”
“Well...” Shawn said, “I’ve had a major change of plans. I have to leave town, but you can still help out at the mission. Brother Charlie in the kitchen is really fun to work with, and maybe you’ll be able to help Reverend Walker in the chapel someday.”
“You’re leaving? That’s too bad. When?” Todd asked.
“Tonight if I can. My father’s been bugging me.”
“Jeez... that means I owe you some rent money, and I can’t get it out of the bank ‘til tomorrow.”
“That’s okay. Use it to help the mission, or some other important work.”
“Gosh... I’ll try. Here’s your Bible,” Todd said, closing it and sliding it
toward Shawn.
Shawn thought. “It’s for you,” he said, sliding it back toward Todd.
“Where I’m going, there are lots of Bibles.”
“Really? Gosh... thanks!”
“I better get packing. Hey, would you do me a big favor?” Shawn asked as he stood up.
“If I can...”
“Use the phone in the shop, call the bus and train stations and find out what’s leaving tonight that I could get a seat on without a reservation.”
“Sure, I can do that. Where are you going?”
“To tell you the truth, I don’t know,” Shawn said. “North or west would be the best, I guess. But anything will do in a pinch.”
“North or west. Got it!”
Todd unlocked the door to the shop, and Shawn began packing his duffel bag, feeling very glad that all his belongings still fit. He was fairly well prepared to camp out if he needed to, much more prepared than the last time he had packed to leave. But more than anything else, he was so very, very happy that he had been able to help Todd into the Kingdom before he left. He would have liked to do more, but that looked pretty impossible now. Maybe the old man at the mission who had told Shawn about Todd had felt the same thing. Maybe he had been called away on other Kingdom work, and could only cross his fingers that Shawn would pull through.
About the time Shawn finished packing, Todd returned with the travel information.
“You
can
probably get a seat on a bus for Nashville at 9:30, and for sure get one to Atlanta at 10:15. There are other things in the middle of the night if those don’t work out. There’s a train for Atlanta at midnight, and there are a few seats right now, but no guarantees they wouldn’t be taken before you got to the station.”
“Train station’s only a five minute walk. That’s my first choice,” Shawn said.
“I like trains too. Used to build models of steam engines and stuff,” Todd said, and gave Shawn the sheet of paper on which he had written it all down.
The two young men looked at each other. “Too bad you’re leaving,” Todd
said. “I thought we were getting to be friends.”
“I feel the same way. I think... we are friends!” Shawn said.
“Yeah! Write to me, okay? You know the address!”
“Yeah, I will! And go down to the mission, okay? Good place to learn how to do important things,” Shawn said.
“I think I’ll go down there tomorrow.”
They stood in silence for a few moments, then embraced each other.
Without further words, Shawn did what he had to do. He dashed down the rickety back stairs for the last time, crept through the alley, and worked his way stealthily toward the train station.
When Shawn arrived at the Greenville, South Carolina depot with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, it was nearly nine o’clock at night. The interior of the station was well lit and had numerous windows, so it was an easy task for Shawn to peek in to determine who was inside. There was a family with two kids, one of whom was asleep, and there was a wrinkled old man with a cane. But then, looking through another window, Shawn spotted a middle-aged man who was pacing in sight of the ticket counter. That one gave Shawn the creeps.
After finding a place on the back side of the train station that was completely unlighted, Shawn sat down on his duffel bag and thought about the situation. He didn’t want to be scared off just because a man was pacing.
He needed a way to determine if this man was looking for him or not. Then he remembered that there was a phone booth near the front door to the station, and that led him to think of a plan.
He left his duffel behind the station and crept to the phone booth. Luckily it had a directory, and after looking up the station’s number, he punched it in.
“Yes, would you please page Reverend Tommy Mitchell for me?” Shawn asked, and as soon as the man who had answered set down the phone, Shawn dashed around to a window.
He heard his father being paged. The man who was pacing hesitated but was obviously interested. Then he stepped to the ticket counter and said he was in the reverend’s party and would take the call. Shawn enjoyed the puzzled look on his face when he found that no one was on the line.
Shawn collected his duffel and headed back into the night.
He arrived at the bus station at about 9:30. Here his task was simpler, as he quickly spotted the man from the library who had helped the large man chase him. He crept away, feeling angry and trapped. The airport was the last possibility, but he knew there were few flights out of Greenville’s minor airport, and they were very expensive. And he couldn’t imagine that his father would guard the train and bus stations, and leave the airport open for him to use.
Without making any clear decision, his feet carried him back toward the railroad yard. It was the one place in town where he still felt safe. He knew he would be welcome in Todd’s apartment, but the fact that his pursuers had found him right across the street in the soul food restaurant made him feel uncomfortable with the idea. And he had already said good-bye to Todd. No, he didn’t want to go backwards, he wanted out of Greenville, South Carolina, and he wanted out that night.
The little cafe by the railroad yard was still open, so he went inside and ordered a hamburger. He had a hunch it was going to be a long night, and his partial chicken dinner was quickly wearing off.
As he ate, he thought of hitch hiking, but decided that doing so would make him too vulnerable to his father’s hired hands. He had never done it, and Charlie at the mission had told him that it could take hours to get each ride.
He thought of riding the rails, but remembered the old man who had fed him beans and hot dogs telling him that it could be very dangerous, and that he should do it with an experienced friend the first time or two.
Shawn felt like crying. He felt totally trapped. After a few moments he pushed his plate away from him and laid his head down on his arms, closing his eyes.
I hope you’ll be here someday soon!
Your friend,
Sarah
He could clearly see in his mind the end of the last letter he had received from Lyceum. He wanted more than anything to be there at that moment. He had a friend in Sarah, and a teacher in Brother Jacob. No one would bother him there just because he was the Reverend Tommy Mitchell’s son.
He pulled out his Lyceum books, and while eating a piece of pie, glanced at some of the pictures. When he finished looking through one book, his eyes happened to fall on the phone number on the back cover. It was a toll-free number, but he had never called it before. He had never spoken to Brother Jacob at all, or to Sarah since leaving there almost a year and a half before.
He couldn’t imagine how it could help him in his current dilemma, but it would sure be comforting to talk to one of them on the phone. And right now comfort was what he needed more than anything else.
Shawn finished his pie and paid his bill. “Do you have a pay phone?” he asked the waitress at the cash register.
“Yeah, right down there by the restrooms.”
“Thanks.”
He wandered down the hall in the direction she had indicated, and found the pay phone in a tiny nook that would provide complete privacy, and was not near any windows to the outside. It felt safe and comfortable. He set down his bag, pulled out the Lyceum book, and tapped in the number.
A female voice greeted him and identified herself as Sister Larissa.
“Hi, uh... I’m Shawn Mitchell, and I’m calling from Greenville. I was wondering if Brother Jacob was anywhere around... Yes, that’s right, Greenville, South Carolina... Yes, he’s been my contact for more than a year now... Teaching a class? Oh, okay. Is little Sister Sarah there by any chance?
I correspond with her too... She is? Great!...”
Shawn glanced around while he waited for Sarah to come to the phone.
Everything looked safe and quiet.
“Sarah? This is Shawn. Remember me?... Yes, it’s really me!... You got my last letter? Wonderful!”
Sarah was taking the call in the Main Office at Lyceum, as she happened to be just outside on the Plaza when the call came in. She hadn’t talked to Shawn very long when she started to sense that he was in a tough situation of
some kind. He didn’t come out and tell her that he was trapped and being chased, and she didn’t have the conversational skills to draw the facts out of him, but she could hear the fear in his voice, and feel the despair that was threatening to drag him down. While she continued to talk and listen, she wrote a note on a pad of paper and handed it to Sister Larissa.
Get Jacob now!
Sister Larissa immediately rolled her chair to her communications console, and the white bearded, slightly over-weight man was there a minute later.
“Shawn, hang on. Brother Jacob just took a break from his class, and he’s here!” And then covering the mouthpiece with her small hand, she turned to Jacob. “He’s in some kind of trouble, and he’s scared, and doesn’t know what to do.”
If Jacob had heard that from just any eight-year-old, he would have taken it with a grain of salt. But he knew Sister Sarah well enough to know that when she sensed something, and went to the trouble of pulling him out of a class he was teaching, it was important.
“Hello Shawn! This is Brother Jacob! How are you?... Uh huh... Uh huh... And what’s your plan now?... Uh huh... I sense you’re having some trouble with that...”
Within five minutes, Jacob knew what Shawn was dealing with. He handed the phone back to Sarah and rolled over to a computer terminal.
Within moments, he knew that Lyceum had a non-resident member about a fifteen minute drive from Greenville. He punched a function key and picked up a nearby telephone handset.
“Brother Joseph, this is Brother Jacob at Lyceum! I have a mission for you. Are you able to pick someone up in Greenville in fifteen or twenty minutes? Great! Hold on while I get you a location.”
Jacob rolled his chair over next to Sarah. She was keeping the conversation on light, happy topics to help cheer up Shawn.
“I like the fireworks that just keep getting bigger and bigger until they fill the whole sky! Here’s Jacob again...”
“Shawn, I’ve got you a ride out of there in twenty minutes. Where shall they meet you?... Yes, really... All the way here, one way or another, if you want. We’ll work out the details as we go... Vinnie’s, by the railroad yard, on Market Street...” He jotted down the information as he listened. “Yes, I’ve got it... His name is Brother Joseph, and he’ll be wearing a Lyceum pin... Yes, the same symbol... Okay. Stay ready, and call again if there’s any problem. I’ll give you back to Sarah now... You’re very welcome! See you soon!”
He rolled back to the other phone and computer. “Joseph, it looks like it’s going to work. You need to leave right away, so let’s make this quick. Your authorization code is Hound Dog... Good, and your mission number is 23-167...”
When Shawn finished talking to Sarah and slowly hung up the telephone, he could hardly believe how his luck had just changed. He had a ride out of Greenville that would be there in less than fifteen minutes, and he felt a thousand times better after talking to Sarah and Brother Jacob.
He stepped outside the cafe, duffel over his shoulder, and took a deep breath of the night air that was finally starting to cool off a little. He had friends, friends who would help him, and he would soon be gone from this town that had become nothing but a trap. He looked around, noticed the grocery store three blocks away, and thought it would be nice to have something to share with the man who was picking him up. He judged he could make a purchase and be back at the little restaurant in about ten minutes.
Shawn arrived at the store just a couple of minutes later, set his bag by the ice machine, and headed for the snack aisle. He quickly selected a bag of chips, and then decided a box of nice candies would also be fun. The moment he stepped out of the snack aisle, he came to a sudden stop, as he was face to face with the large man from the library and another man.
He dropped the chips, turned, and ran, just as the men recognized him and ran after. Shawn dashed down the snack aisle, and one of the men ran behind. Turning and running along the meat counter, Shawn spotted the other man ahead of him, so he turned into another aisle.
He got to the end of that aisle and started down another, but skidded to a
stop when he saw the large man in front of him. He turned, but there was the other man. He was trapped, and they were closing in on him.
Suddenly the store manager and two stockers entered the aisle, pushed past one of the men, and surrounded Shawn.
“WHAT is going on here?” the manager demanded. “Why are you chasing this fellow?”
“He’s a run-away. We’re helping his father find him,” the large man said.
“I’m an ADULT, and I can PROVE it!” Shawn screamed, red faced and out of breath.
The manager thought for a moment. “Are you police of any kind?” he asked the large man.
The large man said nothing.
“Do you have any legal authority over this young man?”
The large man still said nothing.
“Okay, kid, you’re out of here.”
Shawn dashed for the front of the store, grabbed his duffel bag, and disappeared into the night.
“Don’t EVER try that in my store again!” the manager warned the two men before they left.
Shawn ran as best he could with his bag pounding against his side. He went straight toward the little cafe, hoping with his last hope that his ride would be there. When he arrived, out of breath and ready to drop, the cafe was closed, but a sports car was parked in front, the motor running and the lights on. A stout blond man of about forty was standing beside the car.
Shawn ran up to him, breathing hard, and looked at him. There, on his lapel, was the Lyceum symbol.
“I’m... Shawn!” he gasped out between desperate breaths.
“I’m Brother Joseph, Shawn.”
Joseph took Shawn’s duffel bag, put it into the back seat, and held the door so Shawn could climb into the front passenger seat. Just then the two men who had been chasing Shawn ran up and abruptly stopped about ten feet from the car. The Lyceum member looked at the men and smiled confidently.
“It’s a different game now. Good time for us all to head home.”
Then Brother Joseph got into the driver’s seat, closed his door, and moved
the powerful sports car onto the street, leaving the men standing there.
Shawn said nothing for several minutes. He was catching his breath, listening to the pounding of his heart return to normal, and watching the streets of Greenville flash by and disappear behind the sports car that was moving as fast as speed limits would allow, maybe a little faster.
As soon as they had left the center of town behind them, Shawn turned around to see if they were being followed. There was a truck a little ways back, but it soon turned a corner. They continued along the arterial that promised to become U.S. Highway 29, and Shawn continued to look behind them every few minutes.
When they had finally left the city behind entirely and were driving along a four lane highway between hills and fields, Shawn finally spoke.
“Where... are we going?”
“My house is only about ten minutes from here, in a little place called Greer,” Brother Joseph explained. “When we get there, we can call up Brother Jacob and make a plan.”
A minute later, all the fear and frustration that Shawn had been feeling and holding inside for many days began to bubble up to the surface, and he started softly crying as he sat there in the passenger seat. Brother Joseph didn’t say anything, but placed a reassuring hand on the lad’s knee, while he continued to guide the sports car away from the vicinity of Greenville, South Carolina at a high rate of speed.